Chapter Three - Little Nightmares
The days were long and cold at Lull Lane, but the nights were even longer at the Santos residence. The lack of sleep and the deprivation of oneself became all too overwhelming for the two new parents. Baby Belinda cried all day and all night, making Camille want to lose her mind.
On one of those sleepless nights, Camille waited for Antonio to draw her a hot bath.
Exhausted and delirious from her hip pain, she intended to take her first bath of the week.
Before she attempted to strip down, a loud cry coming from the bedroom interrupted Camille.
She then went to see what the matter was, picking her baby up along with her small blanket in her arms. With a gaping moment of darkness, Camille found herself hovering in the bathtub with Belinda in her arms.
“What are you doing, Camille?” a worried voice asked from the bathroom door.
Looking back, searching for the source of the voice, Camille stared at Antonio with emptiness in her eyes. “What?”
“Why are you holding the baby?” Antonio asked.
She looked back at her arms in confusion, only to realize that she had been holding her sleeping baby just above water. “Fuck,” she thought to herself.
“Nothing. I was trying to get her to breathe in the warm steam to soothe her,” Camille said.
Antonio stepped into the bathroom and gently took the baby from Camille’s arms before carrying her back to the crib. Belinda had been asleep the entire time; otherwise, he would have picked her up before his wife had the chance.
“You can’t hold the baby outside the bed just yet. You need to fully heal before you can carry Belinda around. Promise me you won’t try to pick her up again?” Antonio asked.
“I promise,” Camille replied.
He gave no further thought to the event, and then moved on.
Antonio tried his best to help, alternating feeding and sleeping times. Camille had a long way to recover from her hip; she needed more assistance than what Antonio could provide, considering he had to go back to work only a few weeks after Belinda’s birth.
With tension rising and Antonio having to leave his family for most of the day, they hired a temporary nanny. She would come in around noon, when Camille would need to eat something more substantial for her rising hunger. Due to her limited mobility, Belinda stayed in the main bed with Camille.
Thanks to both Antonio and the new nanny, everything needed for the baby’s care was within reach.
On the nightstand, there was a thermos of hot water with formula next to it, six clean bottles, three pairs of onesies, and on the bed, extra baby blankets and a basket full of diapers and wipes.
Next to the bed, on the floor, was a trash can and a stool with a breast pump and extra clean supplies.
Both Belinda and Camille kept each other company when Antonio was at work, often playing with each other’s fingers and practicing face gestures. The baby was alert and always looked around when awake. She liked her mother’s warmth and would sleep longer after a good burping.
The nanny would take over in the afternoons; after helping Camille relieve herself in the bathroom, she would give her time to sleep while she took the baby for a couple of hours. Later in the day, Antonio would get home and take over the family’s care needs.
After a few months of routine check-ups and the lack of proper healing, Camille asked the nanny to move in with them.
Jenny had a complicated relationship with her boyfriend; he would often slap her when he drank too much.
She had been looking for a new place to move to but could never afford a home near her job.
Jenny was young and wanted to live in a better place.
It didn’t take much convincing for Jenny to move into the Santos’ home; she liked the family, after all.
She grabbed her belongings while her drunken boyfriend slept and snuck out through the back door, the noise from the rusty front door would’ve woken the beast.
Jenny’s boyfriend did come looking for her, but after a restraining order and some passing time, he too moved on.
Jenny slept in the guest bedroom; she would focus on studying when she wasn’t helping the family.
She had plans of becoming a nurse someday, and since she didn’t have to pay rent, she was saving up her money for her future home.
As time passed, Belinda continued to sleep in her parents’ bedroom.
As she grew, her parents wanted her to start sleeping in her bed more often.
The first few months were the roughest; she would begin to cry not long after falling asleep.
Night terrors were overwhelmingly constant, affecting the whole household.
Camille couldn’t bear to hear her screaming every time they would put her to sleep in the nursery, forcing her to bring the baby back to the family bed.
This continued for the first few years of Belinda’s little life.
By then, Camille was fully healed and needed less of the nanny’s help.
Jenny had the option to find a new place or stay while she did school.
She liked living there; it was home to her now. So, she stayed.
Around Belinda’s fourth birthday, she took notice of a lovely doll sitting on her dresser, along with other toys.
Her beautiful appearance resembled her own, her eyes seemed to draw Belinda to her.
Belinda lifted herself up, putting weight on her toes.
She stretched out her arm as far as she could, all but touch the figure.
The open box in which she sat then fell forward.
Now within reach, Belinda grabbed her and sat on the ground next to the dresser, playing with the doll’s shiny mane.
She gently pulled each strand of hair and examined the length and silky texture of each wave.
“What are you doing down there? How did you get that doll?" Camille asked.
“I wanna play with doll, plweaaasee?” Belinda begged.
“Okay, honey, just make sure to put her away when you’re done, okay?” This was the moment Camille remembered that she never thanked Miss Nancy for the doll, thinking it was too late for gallantries. Once again, the thought landed at the back of her mind.
With a wide grin, Belinda simply replied, “Okay.”
Every day, Belinda would pick up the doll and play with her. Sometimes she would have teatime, dress up, and at other times just walk around the backyard to admire the tall concrete angel statue Antonio had recently purchased. They had become inseparable.
After a few weeks, Belinda asked to sleep in her room. She wanted to cuddle with the doll, and she no longer had nightmares, her parents were relieved.
Camille and Antonio were glad to have the bed to themselves again, but the distance between them had grown over the years.
They would no longer cuddle to watch TV at night, and they would never face each other when falling asleep; both parents took to their set-in-place spots in the bed.
Camille would sleep on the left side, facing the wall.
Similarly, Antonio would lie on the right side.
While this routine affected their closeness and intimacy, they didn’t seem to notice. Both exhausted and drained, they lived off their routine. Making extra time for each other was more of a stressor and a chore in their schedule.
By now, Camille was quite comfortable with Jenny in their home.
Although she had decided to be a stay-at-home mom, Camille spent most of her time shopping and visiting her new friends.
No one understood how a woman so isolated could find friends so easily, as if she belonged to a secret, unheard-of club for lonely mothers.
Jenny stayed with Belinda to babysit; she never minded. The pay was good, her housing was covered, and the job was easy. It also gave her time to attend school and have plenty of free time in the evenings.
Sometimes she would cook, but that was a task Camille prided herself on. Sometimes Antonio would come late from work and miss dinner, but Camille always made sure to have a plate ready to heat up for him. Life was good for them; routine was a gift, and time continued to pass.
For years, Belinda had the same recurring dream, running through a field of flowers with her doll in her arms. White butterflies would fly all around them as they ran; some would even land on them.
The sun was often bright and warm, a little paradise.
The air smelled of freshly cut grass and spring hyacinths, her dad’s favorite.
After exploring the field, Belinda sat on the ground across from her doll.
Ladybugs crawled on the doll’s dress before flying away, their backs reflecting the sunlight majestically like lightning bugs.
Both sat up straight, wrapped in each other’s gentle embrace.
Belinda felt drawn to the depths of her doll’s eyes, a hypnotizing gaze that sucked her in.
While sharing the moment of peaceful bliss, Belinda began to hum a lullaby.
It came to her organically and effortlessly, as if she had known the song all along.
She didn’t know how she knew it, nor did she care.
She hummed and hummed as she drew closer to her doll to play with her hair.
Pulling a small hairbrush out of her pocket, she turned the doll away and began to brush her silky strands.
As she continued to hum, Belinda then started to sing.
“Pin Pon es un muneco …” The doll’s head quickly spun back to face her, drawing her into a trance as Belinda’s eyes turned completely black.
She sat upright, her arms limp at her sides.
Suddenly, the skies darkened, and all the bugs began to fall to the ground, slowly melting around her, and those that landed on her seemed to dissolve into her skin.